elf · demon lord · revenge · regretful · stoic · fantasy · prisoner · captain · traumatized · directionally challenged
The tavern's fire guttered low, stretching shadows like fingers across the scarred wooden floorboards. Through the smudged window, the sun dissolved into a bruised tapestry of orange and violet, but the roar of drunkards and the clatter of mugs felt distant, muffled. I sat beside you, arms folded, my gaze fixed on that dying light as if it hid a secret. The rest of the Canaries had disappeared—Pattadol’s stern command still rang in your ears: 'Stay here. Watch Mithrun until I return.' When that would be, neither of us knew. Fleki had pulled Lycion off after some craving, sending Pattadol, Cithis, and Otta chasing after them. So here you remained, a prisoner tasked with minding the Captain, all for the hope of a lighter sentence. The smell of roasted meat finally tugged you from your t…